


Payphone Symphony

by LeviSqueaks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliases, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Barely Legal, Dirty Talk, For a while anyway, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, No Underage Sex, Phone Sex, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam looks but doesn't touch, Sex Worker Dean Winchester, Sex Worker Positive, Younger Dean Winchester/Older Sam Winchester, phone sex worker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24848602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/pseuds/LeviSqueaks
Summary: Sam Winchester never claimed to be a righteous man but he hoped that his good deeds could someday outweigh the sin in his heart. After all, what 35 year old man, who practically raised their younger brother fell in love with them?Sam finds a mysterious bill that sets off alarms. But when he overhears Dean breathily greeting a caller using a known sex phone company’s name, Sam is tossed into a whirling sea of intrigue, deception, and longing.Can Sam redeem himself? Or will becoming Dean’s most loyal customer only drag him closer to hell?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 132
Collections: Dean and Sam Bingo, Sam Winchester Bingo, Wincest Reverse Bang





	Payphone Symphony

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Wincest Reverse Bang with inspiration from the amazing artwork of EmmaTheSlayer. Check out her art at https://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/641043.html
> 
> Also counts for the Sam/Dean square on the Sam Winchester Bingo and the Mutual Pining square of the DeanandSam bingo. 
> 
> Thanks to iihappydaysii for the Beta Work!

Sam Winchester was not a righteous man. 

Sam had done many things in his thirty-five years to be ashamed of. He didn’t mean the usual things like cheating on a test or lying to his parents, though he had done those things as well. No, Sam had blood on his hands, darkness in his soul, and lust in his heart that stained every bit of grace and goodness he could boast of.  
  
Sam was a hunter. 

Not for game or sport, but to keep people safe. It didn’t make him feel less like a murderer though. He still felt that stab of guilt and horror in his heart whether it was a vampire or werewolf. Monsters they may be, but they had been human once. 

Sometimes at night, Sam wondered if the purpose behind the killing might save him when he died. If killing in the name of saving people would outweigh the blood staining his hands. But even if the killing was excused and the credit card scams, stealing, and lying were wiped away, he knew the lust in his heart damned him. 

He hadn’t acted on it, wouldn’t act on it. He didn’t let himself reach out and take the things he didn’t deserve. But there were times in the dark of the night where he imagined it. Hoped desperately. 

_Ached._

It was in the dark of the night where he let his imagination run. He would reach down and stroke his cock and think about _him_ crying out and panting and begging Sam to bring him pleasure. When he spilled in his hand, mind blanking with the thrall and release, he felt peace. Until reality crashed down upon him again with a vengeance and he shoved himself up and away from the pillows and rumpled sheets to reach for the bottle instead. 

Sam stared out the windshield of the beloved Impala his father had passed down to him and contemplated the hotel door in front of him. It was nearly ten on a Tuesday in May, the weather hot and sticky but cooling as the sun set. He had been on the road for a week, chasing a lead his father had sent. 

It had been just like all the others over the past twelve years, a dead end with nothing to show. But his father couldn’t give up on the search for his wife’s killer and Sam couldn’t abandon him after all these years. Sam couldn’t give up on their father as much as he hated the man. He hadn’t even seen him for nearly a year.  
  
And then there was Dean.  
  
Dean was home, in the rented house in northern Idaho that Sam had set him up in. He had turned eighteen this year, and was working as a mechanic. He wanted to hunt, but Sam had refused to let him, preferring to spend most of his time home with his brother now than hunting, himself. He didn’t want Dean, with his cocky attitude and flirty airs and bright laughter to get tainted by the hunt and horrors out there. 

Their mom had gotten pregnant with Dean when Sam had been sixteen and she had died six months after Dean had been born. John had gone crazy, chasing after the monster that had killed mom, set Dean’s nursery on fire, and ruined their lives. Sam had worked to get the insurance money and took care of Dean while Dad had looked for answers. Sam had allowed his father to drag him into it after a while, helping him with research, though he refused to leave Dean alone. So for most of their life, it had just been the brothers. 

Sam knew that Dean saw him as more of a father figure than John. He knew more about his kid brother than a lot of parents, having been the confident and cool, older brother. Sam had put himself through law school while taking care of a toddler, and had struggled to keep them going. But as Dean got older, and his father kept getting injured, he had ended up leaving law to hunt. It grated on him, how much his father had missed of their lives to hunt a monster. How much he had given up to help him with the search. 

But it had all gotten worse a year ago. 

Sam had settled Dean in the house and spent most of his time with his brother, doing research for other hunters and helping his dad with leads. It was tight, his salary working at the local university as a professor didn’t pay enough for them to be comfortable. The previous month, he noted that their phone bill had gone up because of an additional line. When he confronted Dean, his brother had flashed that pretty smile and shrugged, saying he didn’t want to wait to call a hot chick if his brother was helping Uncle Bobby with research or something.  
  
Sam was suspicious, but let it go. The twenty dollars a month wouldn’t kill them, and Dean had begun to contribute to the bills. How could he really say no?

Dean had been growing up big and strong and breathtakingly gorgeous. It irked Sam at times, to see his kid brother steal his leather jacket to go flirt with teenage girls, all bow legs and cupid lips and a drawl that spoke of too much confidence he couldn’t back up.  
  
But after a while, Sam realized the irritation wasn’t Dean’s cocky attitude, or theft of his wardrobe, it was the fact that Dean never flirted with him like he did the dumb blondes that hung onto his arm. He had still been seventeen then. Now that he was eighteen, he had started spending evenings locked in his room, music playing in the background which just muffled his voice as he talked on the phone. All. Night. Long. 

Sam was suspicious. His instincts were going crazy, but he let it go, beyond tossing Dean a box of condoms with a sour face. The suspicion only grew, however, when a piece of mail came for Dean that looked suspiciously like a check. Dean had snatched it with thanks and disappeared. 

Something was going on. 

He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, really would never have thought about all that time that Dean spent in his room. But he had walked by the room one day when the music had been a little too low and heard Dean say, “welcome to Phone Entertainers LLC, Operator 13227, Liam speaking… how are you, Daddy?” His tone was soft and breathless, and it went straight to Sam’s cock. 

Sam stood frozen outside of Dean’s door and slowly backed away from it, going to his room and locking the door behind him. His heart raced in his chest, as he tried to come to terms with what he had just heard. Adult entertainers. He knew that company better than he would like to admit. 

They were the same phone sex company he had called when he was lonely on the road, and his own hand just wasn’t enough to get through. But knowing that Dean was there, that his little brother was making his money that way… 

Sam paced, despite the pain from too-tight pants as he tried to comprehend it all. It was bad enough that he had already recognized Dean’s beauty. Bad enough it was distracting him. That he burned with jealousy whenever Dean flashed that cocky grin at any woman or man that caught his eye. 

It was worse when he had been mindlessly stroking his cock the other day and had cum when a stray thought of Dean panting beneath him filled his brain. 

But now to know that Dean was that close? That he brought men to their knees with his voice and that cocky fucking tone? Sam thrust his hand down his pants and stripped his cock as he thought of it, Dean’s breathy voice echoing in his head “ _how are you, Daddy?”_ He came quickly, muffling his cry with his own hand as he sat bonelessly on his bed, guilt filling his heart.  
  
Christ what had he done? 

He had spent that night sleepless. Wracked with guilt and ideas and a cock that wouldn’t soften, his stomach tied in knots. 

He had almost gladly jumped at the next lead that John had given him, taking off with money left for Dean and a tight hug that felt dirty. He got in the impala, dragging the squeaking door shut and drove away. He tried to forget, tried to ignore that part of his brain that whispered in Dean’s voice. He drove all night until his eyelids felt as heavy as his arms. He pulled into a motel, paying quickly and settling into the familiar run-down room. He hadn’t actually been here before, but it held the same road-weary wistfulness that all old motels seemed to cling to.

He set his bag down on the table and stretched as he shuffled in to use the restroom, pleased with the lack of mold. It wasn’t that he expected the Ritz, but the lack of obvious mold and roaches put him at ease. 

Sam kicked off his boots, dragging his clothes off his body until he was left in boxers and stretched, cracking his back before settling on the bed. It wasn’t great, but there weren’t springs in his back. He stared down at his phone, the thoughts of Dean swirling in his head. He shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t take that chance. He didn’t want to betray Dean like that, even if he wouldn’t know. 

He would never know. 

Sam bit his lip and ran his thumb across the unlock sequence, staring at the screen before quickly dialing the number, his breath hitching in his throat. _“Phone Entertainers LLC, you’re calling on a recorded line. Do you have a specific operator?”_ _  
_ _  
_ Sam had never said yes. He had never used the same operator twice, not intentionally. He swallowed and cleared his throat. He could say no. He could let them randomize. He could back out. “O-Operator 13...227,” he managed with a croak, heart hammering in his chest. 

_“Connecting you now.”_

There was a quiet beep, a silent lag that dragged bile up Sam’s throat before another click, _“welcome to Phone Entertainers LLC, Operator 13227, Liam speaking… how are you, Daddy?”_

Those words had been haunting Sam for a week and a half, and now he was hearing them directed toward himself. He was caught up in the adrenaline of it all. That deep, animal fear that gripped him in the middle of a hunt gone bad.  
  
_“Hello? Anyone there?”_

The words jerked Sam and he fumbled the phone, “Yes!” Fuck. His voice! “Yeah, uh yeah I’m here.” he said, softening his tone a bit and praying that Dean wouldn’t recognize his voice. 

There was a chuckle from the other side of the phone, breathier than Dean usually laughed and it twisted Sam’s stomach with want, “ _Yeah? You seem nervous, Daddy… first time calling me?”_

First time like this at least. “Yeah uh… first time with you, Liam,” he cleared his throat and fisted his hand against his thigh, “do you uh… do you only do the Daddy thing?” 

There was a pause and then Dean’s voice lost its breathy qualities, “ _A lot of guys like it, I can use your name or Sir if you want that instead? What’s your name?”_

For a moment, Sam was tempted to tell the truth, “Jason.”

 _“Heya Jase, okay well. This is your fantasy twink Liam here… unless you want me to be a big burly man, I can try to do that. Beauty of it all, you get to pick what you want from me. What’s your biggest fantasy?”_ His voice started to smooth out, go back to breathy and there was a little shuffling sound over the line. Sam closed his eyes and imagined Dean shifting and burrowing further into the pillows to get comfortable. It made his cock twitch. 

He was going to hell. 

“I uh… just… can you just be you?” Sam suggested. 

“ _Huh, that’s new. I’ve never had someone tell me to just be myself before. Okay Jase you’ve got it. I wish you were coming over to my house right now.”_

Sam grinned at the audible smile on Dean’s face, “oh yeah? Why’s that, Liam?” 

There was a pause and a little chuckle that shivered down Sam’s spine, “ _cause… Then you could bring me some pie and we could share it while we watch ghostbusters.”_ There was another pause, and then a snort of laughter _“Yeah man, that’s sexy as shit isn’t it? You sure you want me to be myself?”_

Sam chuckled in response, and he shifted in the bed, “Yeah… this is better… so uh.” he floundered for a second even as his cock grew harder in his shorts, “Original Ghostbusters or the girl remake?” 

Dean laughed loudly at that question, “ _No question, original all the way. Kate McKinnon is fantastic but you can’t beat Bill Murray dude.”_

“No I guess you really can't. It's a little too much to ask. But the remake had some good qualities. What kind of pie do you want me to bring you?” Sam asked as he closed his eyes and relaxed. He was still anxious, still worried that Dean would figure it out. But every moment eased him a little further. 

Dean laughed brightly at the question and Sam smiled at the carefree laugh that Dean sometimes hid. _“Cherry of course.”_

“Oh of course… not some kind of berry?” He checked, and there was a small wistful laugh in response. He knew his brother. He wanted to hear the man admit it. 

_“Well… okay fine Jase you got me. Blackberry would be better. But it’s hard to find, you know?”_

Sam chuckled and shifted on the bed, “I could make it for you.”

_“You bake dude? Marry me.”_

Sam smirked and shook his head. “Hmm maybe after the first date if it goes well. So pie and Ghostbusters… your ideal first date?” 

“ _Well yeah, what’s not to love? We could sprawl out on the couch and feed each other pie.”_

Sam had to refrain from pointing out how messy that would be, how it wasn’t a good idea. It was fantasy, not real life. “Sounds good to me.”  
  
“ _Yeah? I’d answer the door in some flannel pajama pants and a tank… gotta be comfortable. But you seem like a warm guy, Jase… maybe I’d ditch the tank, just to make sure you didn’t drop anything on it.”_

Sam could see it clearly and he shifted, thinking about how Dean would look sprawled out in pajama pants, how they would shift low and show the v and that dark thatch of hair below his belly button. 

“ _Of course, I wouldn’t want to spill anything on your shirt either, so you should probably take yours off too, or maybe I would do it for you, would you like that?”_

 _“_ Yeah,” Sam breathed softly, “yeah I would.” 

“ _Well I mean we gotta be careful… but the movie has a few exciting sequences, and pie could be messy… what would you do if I dropped some on you?”_ Dean asked innocently. 

He had slipped back into the twink persona… the one that called strange men Daddy, but Sam was so caught up he didn’t try to call him out on it. He shifted and inhaled softly, “well I’d make sure you cleaned up the mess.” 

“ _I can do that, Jase. Promise. I would clean it off your chest with my tongue.”_

Sam grunted lightly at the image that seared itself through his mind. Dean in shorts curled up with Sam on the couch, Sam braced on the arm of the couch and Dean nestled sideways in his lap. Dean was still growing into his shoulders, waist and hips slim. Sam had several inches and bulk on his younger brother so the boy would fit perfectly. He could see it, Dean lifting the fork to feed him, dropping a berry down his chest and then bending to lick it up. He shivered and ran his hand over his cock through his boxers. 

“ _I wouldn’t want you to be mad, I think I would need to make sure I got it all up. So I’d make sure to chase it down, make sure it didn’t fall to your stomach. We wouldn’t want you to get sticky…”_

“God forbid we’re sticky,” Sam muttered in agreement. 

Dean chuckled over the phone, and the sound reverberated in Sam’s stomach as he palmed himself, hand brushing over the damp fabric at the head of his cock where he was starting to leak a bit with the thought of having his brother at his mercy. 

“ _What would you do to me, if I licked you clean like that, Jase? Would you let me?”_ Dean’s voice was thicker now, and there was another shifting sound as he settled himself. Sam wondered if he was getting hard. Wondered if Dean was touching himself while he talked dirty to the strangers over the phone. 

Sam inhaled shakily over the phone and cleared his throat so he could talk. He made sure to keep his tone soft so Dean wouldn’t realize it was him. “I’d tell you to be thorough, put my hand to your cheek to guide you where you needed to clean next. I’d make sure the plates got put aside and then I’d guide you d…” he paused, feeling self conscious but there was a little gasping moan over the line, and he swallowed thickly as he slid his hand inside his boxers to grip himself at the sound. 

“ _Would you push me down so I could lick over the head of your cock, Jase?”_ Dean asked shakily, and Sam groaned. Fuck. How was it Dean could say it so freely when the words stuck in his own throat with shame?  
  
“Yeah Sweetheart, I would guide you to lick me before you pushed my jeans down so you could taste as much as you wanted.” Sam felt himself pulse. He was ridiculously close for how short the call had been. 

“ _God yeah. Jase I would suck you down so fast. I want to take you deep in my throat. I want to know what you feel like, stretching my jaw and choking me.”_ Dean gasped. 

A slick rhythmic sound indicated that Dean was just as affected as Sam was. This was exactly what he wanted. Needed. He _needed_ Dean to cum with him. “Fuck baby, so good for me, I would watch you take me deep and I would reach down to grab that pretty pert ass of yours. I’d pull you up to kiss you so I could get you close enough to drag those shorts down so I could touch you. I want you to cum all over me,” Sam managed. 

_“Fuck, Christ, Jase. Dammit!”_ Dean cursed as a high whine echoed over the line. 

Sam shuddered and gripped himself, stroking twice and spilling over his stomach. Shame coating him in the same moment the cum splashed across his skin. He panted harshly into the phone and then stammered, “I’ll… uh I’ll call you again, Sleep well sweetheart.” He couldn’t stand the thought of calling Dean anything but his true name. And he couldn’t do that. 

“ _You better, Jase. I want to talk to you again. Thanks, Handsome.”_

Sam hung up the phone, .He dropped it to the bed, then scrubbed a hand over his face before forcing himself up and to the shower. 

_\---_

That was the first time that Sam had called Dean. But it was not the last. 

Over the next year, Sam called Dean at least once a week. It wasn’t always on the same day, and some days Sam had to slip out of the house, taking a drive to a back road with enough signal to keep the call, but remote enough that he could get himself off listening to his little brother talk. 

Like the first night, Sam insisted that Dean be himself rather than play a role. He never called Dean by the fake name. He couldn’t stand the idea of calling his brother Liam even though he got a thrill each time he was connected and heard, _“welcome to Phone Entertainers LLC, Operator 13227, Liam speaking… how are you, Daddy?”_

Whenever he heard it, his lips twitched up and he chuckled, “Hey Sweetheart, it’s Jason.” 

And without fail, Dean would laugh _. “Hey Handsome, it’s been too long.”_

Sam kept his habit a secret by never calling at home or when around Bobby. Somehow, he had gone a year without Dean realizing it was him. He wasn’t sure how he pulled it off. Especially when he would get home and see Dean and be filled with such raw aching want that he was certain it was plastered across his face. But Dean never seemed to realize, and each time Sam called he fell a little deeper in love. 

Sam felt like he had gotten to know Dean a better in the following year. Dean was uninhibited, emboldened by the anonymity to talk about his dreams. He talked endlessly about cars, frequently mentioning Baby and his envy of Sam for inheriting it. “ _If she were mine I would make sure she had a tune up every couple of weeks, just to make sure she purred until I was eighty. S’nothing like a classic car, Jase.”_ It took awhile, but the frequent calls that sometimes didn’t even include dirty talk, allowed Dean to admit his interest in working with his hands. He shared that he was saving up for a guitar he saw at a pawn shop. That he had gotten lost in a Youtube spiral about woodworking and wanted to try it. That he was trying a new recipe out because he loved to eat so he should learn how to cook. 

It was perfect. 

Four months later, Sam woke Dean up after returning from a hunt and dragged him out to go look at cars. He had been saving money where he could, hustling drunks at pool and darts to save up for this surprise. Dean had been grumpy about it at first, but his love of engines led to him thoroughly inspecting a Prius that caught Sam’s eye that was only a few years old with decently low mileage. “I mean, it’s a sad sack of shit, Sam. I don’t know why you even want me looking at the damn thing. It’s a sorry excuse of a car.” 

Sam snorted with laughter at Dean’s disgusted expression. “Maybe, but I’ve been on the road more this year with the shit for Dad… It would be nice not to push the Impala so much.”

Dean eyed him suspiciously, “you better not be impugning Baby’s honor. No one puts Baby in the corner, Sam.” 

Sam groaned and shook his head. “Seriously, Dean? You weren’t even alive when that movie came out.” He patted the Prius and eyed Dean. “Besides, no one is impugning her honor, nice job on the SAT word by the way.” He winked at Dean and felt a smile spread across his face at the bitchy expression he received in reply, “I’m gonna need you to help me customize the Prius for hunting,” he muttered before going off to sign the papers. 

Dean groused when he was handed the Prius keys to drive it home after the papers had been signed but took them with reluctance. “Hey, head on home. I have another errand to run,” Sam insisted to Dean as he tousled Dean’s hair and got called a bitch in reply. He was pretty sure it was worth it though, when he drove up an hour later to the house with the impala freshly washed and sporting a big red bow on the hood. 

“What the hell, Sam?” Dean breathed, hope flashing in his eyes.

Sam smirked and tossed him the keys. “It’s not officially yours until you help me modify the Prius for hunts… but you love her.” He glanced at the car. “She should be yours.” 

That night, Sam left the house to “take the Prius for a test drive, get a feel for it.” Only to have Dean scoff in response but grin widely knowing it meant the Impala was staying in the driveway. 

When Sam got far enough away from prying eyes he called the line, his gut clenching in excitement to talk to Dean without the layers and secrets. He heard the click and pause, the wait and each second built the anticipation before, _“Welcome to Phone Entertainers LLC, Operator 13227, Liam speaking… how are you, Daddy?”_

“Hey Sweetheart,” Sam breathed, his voice softening into the ‘Jason’ voice on instinct having done it for so long. 

_“OH MY GOD, JASE. YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!”_

Sam chuckled to himself, his body rushing with satisfaction at hearing how excited Dean was. His brother had beamed and hugged Sam quickly, had run his hands over Baby, but he hadn’t yelled like this, hadn’t crowed with excitement and hearing Dean let go was better than Sam could have imagined. “Well don’t keep me in suspense,” he teased. 

_“I thought you liked it when I teased you, Babe.”_ Dean laughed, and it stirred Sam. 

The longing made him shift in the seats of the car, distracted at the cloth that clung to him rather than the smooth slide of leather. “You know I do,” he managed, voice husky, and he smirked when Dean gasped in response. 

_“Fuck… I’m gonna get you off so good tonight… but I gotta tell you. You know Baby? My brother’s Impala?”_

Sam smirked, “The old ‘67 your dad passed down that you love? Yeah.”

Dean’s tone was reverent, “ _S… my brother dragged me out of bed this morning at ass early o’clock to a car dealership and had me help him find some shitty Prius because he travels for work and he wanted to save money on gas or whatever? He gave me the car.”_

Sam couldn’t help himself. “The Prius?” 

Dean snorted over the phone and, fuck, it shouldn’t be hot. Sam was officially damaged beyond repair, “ _No! Baby! He had me drive the Prius home, said he had an errand and then came home with Baby all washed up with a bow on the hood and he gave my girl to me! I wish you were here, Jase. God I want to take you for a drive.”_

Sam swallowed and stared out at the rolling hills in front of him. He had been tempted so many times over the years to tell Dean. To confess. To admit to the deception and he found himself now on the edge of a cliff staring into the abyss. “Sweetheart. I’m…” he saw a cop pull up behind him and swore softly. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.” 

Sam breathed carefully and explained to the officer he had pulled over to take a call and deal with a crisis. The officer was friendlier than they usually were, and Sam realized that the ‘shitty’ Prius was going to save his ass and make him look a hell of a lot less threatening to the locals. 

He quickly pulled into a hotel parking lot, hiding in the back corner and called back. He had been tempted to call Dean’s cell but he was still wary of finally revealing the truth. He swallowed as he waited for it to connect the empty air time hanging like a weight across his neck and then, 

_“welcome to Phone Entertainers LLC, Operator 13227, Liam speaking…”_ Then a pause before, _“Jase?”_

“Yeah Sweetheart, I’m sorry. A cop pulled up behind me and I didn’t want to get caught with my pants down,” Sam soothed. 

Dean laughed softly. _“were you already touching yourself? We hadn’t gotten to anything sexy yet, Babe.”_

“You kidding me? I love hearing your voice. It instantly does it for me,” Sam admitted as he fiddled with the small shifter joystick beside him. 

_“You really mean that?”_

“With everything I’ve got, Sweetheart,” came the careful confession. Sam swallowed and stared across the cracked pavement. “You said something about wanting to take me for a ride?”

Dean was quiet for a moment then a soft hum of agreement came across the line, _“hmm yeah. I mean… I know we don’t… really know each other. I know you’re not really like… into me.”_

“I don’t know where you get your sources, but they’re blatantly wrong,” Sam corrected firmly. 

_“Yeah?”_ There was another long pause and then Dean spoke again, cautious though not quiet, _“You make me feel safe, like when I’m with my brother. Like nothing could happen to me as long as you were there.”_

Sam sucked in a breath and he squeezed a hand around himself through the jeans and swallowed. “Like your brother?” he managed. 

Dean was quiet again, and Sam felt his stomach twisting up so hard it felt like he couldn’t breathe. _“Jase… can… I mean I know you can just stop calling whatever but…”_ another long pause, _“Can I trust you with a secret?”_

Sam breathed out slowly, “You can trust me with anything, Sweetheart. Nothing you could say would make me abandon you.” It was too close, too much to what Sam would say, and he felt bile rise in his throat with the worry that somehow Dean would finally catch on. 

_“I really hope you’re right. I… I’ve been.”_ Another pause, one to gather himself and Sam could see the way Dean’s brows furrowed, could easily picture his jaw clenching and relaxing, _“My brother, he’s basically raised me all my life. I mean by the time I was in kindergarten he was holed up in an apartment with me while he took college classes. He’s… older than I am.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Sam made an encouraging noise, his body frozen though his cock was quickly filling as he heard the affection and emotion driving Dean’s words. He swallowed and shifted in his seat. “He must love you a lot.” 

_“He does. I mean I know it’s wrong. And I know I shouldn’t. But. Look, like if you were here and, in my life, I would want to be with you, you know? You call me every week, sometimes more than once a week, and you’ve always just asked me to be myself. But I’ve been in love with Sam since I was thirteen.”_

Sam felt like his body was burning from the inside. Was this what hell would feel like? Seizing, clawing heat that burned him up from the inside. He inhaled shakily and swallowed back the guilt as he asked hoarsely, “Do you… have you told him?” 

Dean laughed softly over the phone. _“Naw, of course not. I couldn’t do that. He’d never understand. But damn. Nowadays half the time I get off I’m thinking of him and the other half I’m thinking of you. Fucked up right? Cause I don’t even know who you really are or how old you are or if you’re married or what.”_

“I think about you too. I’m not married, not even dating anyone. I’m thirty-five though,” Sam revealed, saying too much. It was too much. 

_“Same age as Sam.”_

Sam shifted in his chair, leaning it back a little and staring up at the night sky. “Do you… Sweetheart, you know how much I love to hear you. Do you want to… It doesn’t gross me out. About Sam,” he said softly as he tried to get the courage up to make the suggestion. “Do you want to get off tonight, thinking about him? You could call me Sam tonight baby. I wanna hear you fall apart thinking about your brother.” 

_“Fuck.”_ Dean’s voice was wrecked with need, and Sam’s stomach clenched with it as he unbuttoned his jeans to squeeze around the base of his cock. He was going to cum so fast tonight, especially if Dean took him up on it. He hoped he did. He wanted it so bad. 

“Are you touching yourself thinking about me?” Sam asked, honestly wondering though he kept his voice lighter for now. He could hear the shift of the phone against his skin. A soft squeak in the background. Dean’s heavier breathing. 

_“Fuck… god yeah. I’m so hard.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Sam knew that Dean needed more, “Come on Kiddo, I want to hear you. Let go for me.” Sam encouraged, slipping into the usual nickname for his brother and he moaned at hearing Dean’s breath hitch in response to the nickname. “Do I sound like him?” he asked Dean softly. 

_“God… no not really, your voice is… lighter than Sam’s.”_

Dean was whining when he said it, and Sam closed his eyes and bit his lip. He could just let go. Dropping his voice so that it was in his natural timber, he moaned again and let his passion and desire pour out with his next sentence. “How about now, Kiddo?” he asked, and he heard the hitch and keen that Dean let loose next. “Do I sound like me, now, Dean?” he asked quietly, and there was a broken cry when he finally used his brother’s name. “You sound so fucking good for me baby, so fucking perfect. God, I love listening to you when you’re touching yourself for me.” 

_“Sam!”_ Dean cried out. 

“That’s it baby, so fucking perfect for me. I wish I was holding you right now. Want to see you stroke your pretty cock for me and cum all over your stomach. Want to lick it off your skin and taste you. Want me to suck your cock, sweetheart? Take me out in Baby and drive me off to a makeout point and let me suck you deep as you cum for me?” 

_“Fuck! Sam, please!”_

Sam was stroking himself feverishly in time with the frantic whimpers that echoed from the receiver. “That’s it, baby. I’ve been thinking about you for years baby brother, even before you really started to fill out. Dad would kill me if he knew how much I wanted you. Are you touching yourself for me, Sweetheart? Cum for me baby, I want to hear it. Cum for me Dean.” 

_“SAM!”_

Sam was pretty sure he blacked out for a second with how hard he had cum listening to Dean fall apart like that. He panted and waited for Dean to get with it enough. “I’m going to hang up now, Sweetheart. I’m going to call you later,” he managed before he hung up the phone after a drowsy acknowledgment. He panted and tossed it to the passenger seat and cleaned himself up carefully before refastening his pants.  
  
He had done the unthinkable. He had finally revealed himself to his brother and confessed. He had come clean, stripped himself bare, and now would have to live with the consequences. It took Sam longer than he would have liked to steady himself enough to drive safely. By the time he got home, it was close to two. 

He pulled the near silent car into the drive and shut it down, staring up at the house before getting out and walking inside. Even as fucked out as Dean had been, he would have realized at some point that Sam hadn’t called him Liam. 

He wasn’t sure what he would find in the house. 

Walking inside, he found the lights off and the rooms silent as he locked up behind himself and creeped in to stare at Dean. He lay there, sprawled and boneless under a sheet, naked and tousled and looking good enough to eat. Sam swallowed as he walked in and took a seat on the bed. 

Dean shifted and stirred, blinking sleepy green eyes up at Sam and the older man couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his lips unbidden. “Sam?” his younger brother croaked before coming alive as he sat up and met Sam’s eyes widely. 

Sam met his gaze, his own measured before he leaned forward slowly. He had to give Dean the chance to pull back, to push him away. They both moaned as Sam gentled his lips over Dean’s, softer than a whisper before it became hungrier, demanding, desperate. “Fuck, Sweetheart,” Sam managed as he pulled away. A large hand rose to cup Dean’s cheek as he rested his own forehead against Dean’s. “You sounded so fucking pretty when you came for me. Can’t wait to see it… bet you look even better than you sound.” 

Dean flushed and met his eyes, searching and hopeful before a smile crossed bow lips. “Guess you’re just gonna have to find out.” 

Sam couldn’t wait. 


End file.
